Music Makes the World Go 'Round
by C2-S1
Summary: Marching band. What could possibly make this any worse for Ichigo? He's considered a band nerd, his reputation is ruined, and he still has to deal with Hollows! The answer? Rukia.
1. Marching Madness

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Bleach, but the other characters such as Cogdill and Tony, I do own. Well not really; they pwn me.

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Six months.

Six months of pure, unadulterated, undeniable HELL.

It had been six months since April. It was now October.

And Ichigo hadn't made any progress, at all. With Rukia, with school, friends (in the sense that he couldn't get Keigo or Mizuiro off his back), or this new type of agony he had been forced to take up;

Marching Band.

Jesus, and he thought fighting Hollows was bad! At least with them you were perfectly allowed to kill the beast that stole souls. With a band director or drum major, they get off with your soul SCOTT FREE. And what was worse, it seemed like they, the B.D. and the D.M., only preyed on one person in the marching band. That one person, as you might have guessed, was Ichigo. But that was irrelevant. That's not why Ichigo felt like pounding heads into the concrete. No, it wasn't the insane Band Director or the Obsessive Compulsive Drum Major, no, it was someone far, far, FAR, worse.

It was Rukia.

Ever since that day at that little run down convenience store, Ichigo had been trying to forget about her. (This was irrational, though, because she still lived in his closet.) In the corner of his mind, he saw her framed against a scenic winter background, looking cute as a button, and he hated it. And whenever Ichigo mentioned it, merely the thought, she would immediately deny any acknowledgement of what he spoke of, if they were in public. Otherwise, she'd just give him another pretty color of purple on his cheek, promising worse punishment if he said anything at all. ("I _will_ kill you, make no mistake. It _didn't_ happen, so shut up about it.")

And after that, life had just gone smoothly, taking out the occasional Hollow, kicking ass in general, you know, the usual Ichigo thing. But then, a sick twist of fate occurred. That innocent, gullible principal of Karakura high school was fooled into getting the one thing that this school didn't need. A marching band. And what was worse, they were from _America_. Like they needed a bunch of bloody yankees dirtying up the band building Ichigo hadn't known about!

And the band director needed fresh blood.

He had, of course, brought his own faithful gang of... about fifty people. Compared to the hundred something kids in American marching bands, it was pathetic, so he decided to leech off the local population; kids that were remotely talented in music. If you could hold out an F note on a wind instrument for eight counts, you were in. If you could hit a string of eighth notes on a snare drum, you were in. If you could play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on the xylophone, bass, or electric guitar, you were in. So, naturally, every junkie and their grandmothers came in to audition for the band; it could be counted as community service.

And of course, just about everybody got in.

And when the author says just about everybody, they mean everybody that Ichigo wished hadn't auditioned.

Orihime, Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro, Ishida, Chad and, of course, Rukia, had all auditioned. And they all got in. Orihime was the most cheerful and excitable, so naturally, she played the flute. Next, Keigo and Mizuiro played the clarinet, quite possibly the most homosexual instrument for males to play, bested only by flutes. After that, was Ishida, who played the saxophone with surprising intensity.

Ichigo wasn't aware that a Quincy could do anything right, let alone play music with feeling. What a shocker.

Next on the list, and probably Ichigo's most favorite person in band, Chad. Chad played the drumset for the pit, which was a truly frightening thing, though Ichigo'd be pretty hard put to admit it to anybody. Half the time one was afraid for the drumset, the other half one would be afraid for the rest of the pit crew, who would be within four or five feet of drumsticks flailing wildly in the air when a drumset solo came around. Then, the drumline, which was mostly comprised of American boys and one American girl, Tatsuki and Ichigo had been forced to join. Neither wanted to, but neither had a choice. This was an 'easy' way to get a good excuse for missing all those worthless detentions. So, accordingly, Ichigo played the tenor drums (also called the quads) and Tatsuki played the snare drum.

Easy his ass. Marching band was ridiculous, and it only got worse as things went along.

Now, as we all know, Rukia couldn't just settle for a trumpet or a flute, no, she had to play the most out there, least known instrument in all of marching band. The Mellophone. It looked something like the bastard son of the marching baritone and a trumpet: silver, smaller than the former but bigger than the latter, and was, in actuality, a french horn gone terribly wrong. It had a forward facing bell, so that the sound could project to the audience, and was pretty much a useless piece of junk metal, in Ichigo's opinion.

And so, for the last six months, everyone had been learning their respective instruments because, HEAVEN FORBID one of the musicians be ill-prepared for the competition that was in... what, one, two... SEVEN MONTHS. Throughout the winter season, when it was just colorguard- who sucked, by the way, but would cry if they were ever told outright- the band director would have after school practices with the entire band. During these practices, Rukia and Ichigo would most likely be found fighting Hollows, but regardless, they miraculously found time to learn their parts. So now here Ichigo was, after six months of HELL under the complete tyranny of the percussion section leader, the only American girl in the drumline.

She was worse than Rukia.

To say her fuse was short would be to assume that she had a fuse at all. No, she was more of an explode on contact nuclear warhead. Say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, miss a beat, and she was all over you like white on rice. And she wasn't above using physical violence, though she stood below five feet. She had complete and absolute control over the section, all except Tatsuki and Ichigo. But Tatsuki liked this dictatorship; finally, a woman was in charge. So she had no problem with it. Ichigo was still unhappy with the arrangements, though, so he mouthed off whenever he got the chance.

Suffice to say, Ichigo became well acquainted with the track that ran the perimeter of the school.

Anyways, it had been six months, three different band camps, seventeen Tuesday and Thursday practices, a hundred and some-odd times around the track, and at least twenty-eight pairs of concert drums sticks (and two pairs of marching drum sticks) when Ichigo found himself watching the other band members lounging around the band hall, talking about band stuff that he didn't give half a rats ass about. Some were playing around on the Glock, and some were playing their electric guitars on amps in a far away corner of the large square room. Rukia, who was seated only a few feet away from Ichigo was absentmindedly fingering along to the halftime show music, occasionally checking her primitive cell phone for an update on a Hollow attack. Anything to get out of this place.

And then, with no prior warning, the Band Director, known as Mister Cogdill, came marching through the doors with the most terrifying grin on his face that anyone had ever witnessed. It reminded Ichigo of a Hollow's ivory mask. A lot. And the way he marched up to the door of the empty uniform room was just as disturbing, if not more so. But Ichigo soon found out what had Mister Cogdill so worked up and excited; following the tactful path through boxes that Mister C had, was a long rack of what had to be uniforms, pushed by some poor schmuck of a bass drum player.

And, even though he sulked like nothing had changed and scowled like the devil, Ichigo felt a small spark of excitement within himself at seeing the uniforms. They looked almost...

_Cool._

Almost.

They were all black, except for the gray gloves. On either side of the jacket, there were silver buttons, which were attached to chains, which were, in turn, attached to a silver line that went directly down the jacket front, where the wearer's sternum would be. The shoes were rolled heel, as to make marching easier, and the gauntlets, which were worn around the forearm using velcro on the inside, had chains that dangled from the wrist and connected to the end that was closest to the elbow. The shakoes, which were the hats with plumes (feathers) were black also, but with the kanji for Karakura in white. Now of course, the drum majors' uniform was different, but that was to be expected. He was the drum major, after all.

As the many band inhabitants crowded around for a closer look, Ichigo heard the sound of Rukia's sugar coated voice, which made him want to puke. Shortly thereafter, he heard the sound of Keigo groveling at Rukia's feet, and him getting trampled for it, and that cleared all the nausea away pretty quickly. Being one of the taller kids in band, Ichigo got a pretty good look at the uniforms over the small crowd, and he grudgingly admitted that no, they weren't the lamest things he had ever seen, but still, it was marching band. It was _made_ to be lame, wasn't it?

So, still scowling because a good majority of the kids were glaring at him for not drooling in awe at such works of fine precision and beauty, Ichigo made his way into the locker room to shove his drumsticks in his locker. Upon turning around, he found that Rukia was directly in front of him, shushing him and pushing him against the thin bars of the lockers. Unexpected? Yes. Frightening? A little. Turn on? For the very unfortunate Ichigo, yes. She was close enough to his face so that he felt her breath on his chin, and she had her hand on his chest. It was obviously not a sexual advance on her part, though; the look in her eyes was much to serious.

"A Hollow. I don't know how strong it is, so we have to hurry."

But, almost as soon as she said those words, a flash of light erupted from the rooftop, headed somewhere opposite the sun. And suddenly, the Hollow was no more. It was that damn Quincy, Ichigo thought. Always interfering. Didn't he know when to put down those damn toys of his and let the shinigami do their work? But Ichigo let it slide this time. After all, it had to have been a pretty damn weak Hollow to die from one arrow. Soon after the flash, Ishida walked in behind the kids who were staring in awe at how cool their new uniforms were. Rukia still had her hand on Ichigo's chest, and he glared at her to bring this to her attention, but she was distracted. Someone in the throng of people had called her name, and, putting on her high pitched, sugary-sweet voice, she waltzed into the crowd. Immediately, Keigo began working on his groveling.

Ichigo stood there, his expression still retaining the shocked quality he had when Rukia had been so close, so suddenly. He saw her trying on her shako, perplexed as to why it kept falling off without the strap. He also saw her, looking so confused and helpless, and was once again annoyed with himself for thinking she was adorable. How was he going to manage it all?

This was going to be a long, _long_ season.

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Nothing against Clarinet players, I promise. If I named the instrument, I love it. ESPECIALLY the Mellophone. Anyways. Continue? Or just leave this as a band nerd's one-shot?


	2. Morris Brown

Disclaimer: See page one.

**A/N: **The song in which the drumline does it's trick section is called, "Morris Brown", by Outkast. I myself don't care much for rap, but this song makes me want to get up and dance. Plus, it talks about Marching Band. What else do you need from a rap song...?

And thank you all the folks who reviewed and favorited and alerted. It's the most I've ever gotten for one chapter of something; you guys pwn.

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Five minutes before Karakura High School Marching Band was to take the field in class AA competition.

Any last words?

Ichigo desperately wanted to leave. He was tempted to tell his section leader, who went by the name Pickle, that he wanted to go immediately. But how badly would that hurt his reputation? Wimping out at the Marching Band competition because he was afraid? What was he, a man or a mouse? He had to toughen up. No one was allowed to be afraid on the drumline. If you're afraid, you'll march like you're afraid, and the judges will know you're afraid.

Unacceptable.

You must hit every drill spot, don't miss a beat, make sure you know which drum is which, stay in time, roll your feet when marching... Ichigo had to go over a mental checklist for fear of messing up at the very first competition that his band was to attend this year. He could hardly believe it, but what he was feeling wasn't fake or exaggerated.

He was nervous.

But then who wouldn't be? Tatsuki, Orihime, and yes, even Rukia were nervous. Orihime had to be convinced twice now to stop noodling, or playing out of turn, on her instrument by the drum major, Tony. She fidgeted and bit her lower lip, even though you could see excitement dance in her eyes. Tatsuki was flipping her sticks, one over the other rapidly, which was a clear give away to anyone that knew her personally. Rukia was drawing hasty sketches of rabbits and Mellophones in her dotbook, which usually held her drillspots and told her how many counts she had to get there.

This was what everybody had been waiting for; competition. This was what everybody had slaved over at band camp for, this was what everybody blew out their chops for (meaning that they played until they physically couldn't play anymore,) and what had caused weeks of terrible pain in the lower foot area of a good portion of the band. They were going to march, and if they were any good, they'd be getting one's and two's by the judges. Ichigo just hoped a Hollow wouldn't attack during the show.

That might be a little difficult to explain.

But now, that wasn't the main issue. The band that had preluded them, the Blue Marching Devils or something, had just finished their closer. That meant that, within the next two minutes, Karakura was to take the field in Class AA competition. Ichigo's fellow bandmates shivered in their mostly black uniforms. Chains clinked against brass instruments, sticks clicked, and then all was still. Tony was standing at the front of the two lines that the band had been arranged in. Percussion was in the back, meaning Ichigo would be among the last to walk out, and high woodwinds in the front, meaning Piccilos, flutes, and clarinets would be the first to be seen. Rukia was somewhere in between, where the mid-voice section was, behind the saxophones and in front of the trumpets. No one spoke, no one moved. Then, Tony clapped, and shouted,

"Band, Ten-Hut!"

And the band answered him, "Hut!", as winds raised their instruments to eye level and the drumline clasped their sticks double handedly.

After surveying the band to make sure no one spoke or moved after being called to attention, he turned on his heel, and clapped a slow, four count rythym. The snares played a tap to march the band to the field.

"Mark-Time-March!"

And the low chorus of nervous voices answered him.

"Check and one, two, three, four..."

"Forward march!"

The snare drum tapped on counts one, three, five, and seven, and the band proceeded to forward march across the track to the football field, with Tony leading.

Ichigo, who had started to sweat under the thick, black uniform, glared ahead at anyone who would make eye contact. His fingers were already stinging, and they had hardly warmed up underneath the stands of the football stadium, awaiting the previous band to finish their show. With each tap the snare played, he accented with a rimshot, or a hit of the metallic rim that encircled the drum head, and he felt the vibrations echo all the way up through to his shoulder. But he showed no weakness. Pickle would not allow it.

And so he walked solemnly to his drill-spot for page zero of The Opener, surverying the large crowd that always assembled for competitions, and was comprised mostly of band students. All those eyes watching him... made him nervous. He didn't like to be in the spotlight, and, out on this large feild, under the stadium lights, it felt very much like that. He fidgeted and checked his stick bag, which hung from the left-most drum on the quads (Or quints, technically; there were five drums mounted on the halter). Yep, there were enough sticks, in case he dropped or broke one on the move. He would just have to leave it 'til the show was over. Now all that was left was to get the show started, and not miss the drill spots. Or the right accents, rim shots, flams, rolls...

Focus.

Then, after the announcer proceded to tell the audience about the theme of their show- Modern Times, with the songs "Morris Brown", by an American group named Outkast, "The Medallion Calls" and "The Black Pearl" from Pirates of the Caribbean, and "Powdered Milk Man", by an American ska band. He then proceeded to name the section leaders, and ask the drum major Tony Kelly and assistant drum major Jerreane Jackson if their band was ready, while the former and the latter called the band to attention once again. No one spoke, no one moved. It was the calm before the storm.

And then, Tony whistled for three counts, held one count, and whistled three quarter notes; the drumline was off, marching in four-four time to the fifty yard-line. The four snare players continued ahead as the rest of the drumline stopped and marked time in their drill spots, and waited as the winds made a decidedly good crescendo, then dropped back down to a more quiet sound, or _Piano_. Thoughts flew through Ichigo's mind- Was he in the right drill spot? He didn't just miss that paradiddle, did he? How was Rukia doing? She hadn't tripped? Was she breathing right? How come he couldn't hear her sound over the size six bass drum that was two steps away? But no. He didn't have time to wonder about her anymore- the jazz and trick section was coming up. So without further ado, Ichigo marched forward, rolling his feet, to fill the gaps between two of the four snare players, who faced towards the five quad players, lining down the fifty yard line so that the audience got a prime view of this part of the show.

Suddenly, a single trumpet played out, a complex mix of sharps, flats, all played in the upbeats of seven-eight time. Ridiculously cool, though you'd never hear that escape Ichigo's mouth. And, with the cue from the drum major and the trumpet, the wind and pit sections stopped playing altogether, but posed with some members kneeling, some with horns popped to the judges booth, and some leaning to the side with their hands in "push" motions.

And the drumline began.

It was a complex mix of rolls, accents and rimshots, at first, and Ichigo grinned as he hit most of the beats correctly. But now the hard part began. In back-slapping motions, he and the other quad players began playing the snare drums, while the snares began playing the quads. They rolled, and reached around each others sticks to hit the right drums, all playing in the upbeat of five-four time, when the snares began a grinding motion with their instruments. The quads players had to reach back to hit the snare heads, which were now dipping between each drummer. About a measure after that, the quads (with Ichigo included, though he was embarrassed to do this part at practice) began the same grinding motion, but on the downbeats of five-four, so that when the quads went down, the snares came up, and vice versa. Then two of the bass drums, who had previously been flanking the outermost quad players, faced each other from opposite ends of the line, and began swinging their drums back and forth, right to left, but perfectly timed so that when a snare went down, the bass drum was over his or her head, and when a quad went down, the bass drum was over _their_ head.

All the while they played, most of them didn't miss a beat. Ichigo cursed when he heard the bass drums fall out of time, causing phasing between the rest of the drumline. They were gonna get point deductions for that, for sure. Ichigo gripped his sticks with numb hands, making sure to continue the grinding movement, and was relieved when the drumline got back together, almost two measure later.

And, in Ichigo's opinion, the best part of the show began now.

The marching cymbals began dipping their symbols in and out between the snares and quads, and the players of these instruments began hitting the cymbals that were opposite them, with the blunt end of their sticks. They did twirling motions to get the right end of the stick to the right instruments, and it was tiring Ichigo, though he endured with his usual stubbornness. Only a few more measures of this and it would be done, not to mention the crowd was loving it.

In the back of his mind, where his subconsious dwelled, Ichigo wondered if Rukia was watching. If she was, did she enjoy it? Was she watching the whole drumline, or just him? Was she proud of him? The blush rose in Ichigo's ears, he knew, because they were suddenly warmer than the rest of his upper body, with the exception of his burning arms. He couldn't feel his forearms anymore, and his biceps were on the verge of giving out, but just a few more counts...

And then the drumline scattered, to the back of the field, as the rest of the band began playing loudly, or at _Forte_. It was the beginning of "The Medallion Calls". As he ran, he caught sight of Rukia, who, like the rest of the band, knew that the drumline would now play a minimal part of the show, just playing the basic beats and rythyms until the Closer. Then they would do one more show of tricks, though not as extravegant, and the show would be over. Ichigo searched Rukia's face closely, and she felt it, so she took her eyes away from the drum major, and met his gaze. And for a moment, time seemed to slow, as Rukia gave Ichigo the slightest, most heartfelt smile he had ever seen to grace her lips.

But at the back-hash line of the field, time seemed to speed up again as Pickle began shouting orders over the drumline to stay in time while marching, and watch the drum major, and Ichigo, did you just miss that flam? He glared at her from under his shako, as she played her snare expertly, using the traditional grip as opposed to the rest of the snares, who used matched overhand grip. Her hands were now blue, as Ichigo's were undoubtedly, from the cold and the striking of the drums, but she had a feral grin on her face, and, to Ichigo's distaste, it was highly infectious.

He found that by the time they marched off the field, his hands were blue and his face was split in a grin that would make a Hollow shiver.

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After the band had put away it's instruments and re-dressed in it's street clothes, Ichigo found Rukia with her section, which consisted of two American girls and an American boy. They were congratulating eachother on a job well done, when Ichigo snuck up from behind and hugged Rukia.

And then he came to his senses.

Rukia jumped when he grabbed her, but he was warm, so she didn't beat the living hell out of him where he stood Not to mention that there were witnesses around. Besides, almost immediately after hugging her, he let go of her, and stood and scowled, with folded arms. She would let it go this time.

What the hell was he thinking? Ichigo felt the blood rising to his ears again, but he still glared off into the distance. He couldn't let these losers (and Rukia) know what he was thinking. So, still scowling, and glaring and trying to look intimidating, Ichigo muttered something to Rukia, so that only she could hear.

"Do you wanna go sit with me?"

Rukia, who was still slightly disturbed that he had hugged her, now raised her eyebrows at him. Had he lost his mind? Had he accidentally swallowed Kon's mod-soul pill? He glared at her and added, "idiot," under his breath. Okay, so he wasn't possessed, and he wasn't crazy, judging from the use of the word idiot and it's accompaniement of glare and scowl. And it was pretty cold... so she decided to sit with him. If he so much as thought anything funny, she would just add on to the red color of excitement in his face with her own colors, like blue and purple. Besides, he had his precious reputation to protect.

But her crowd of followers wouldn't let her sit _alone _with him, so she sat next to him, with Keigo, Mizuiro, Orihime, Tatsuki and Chad sitting in various places directly around her.

They made a giant huddle, and Ichigo found himself uncomfortably close to Rukia as the awards ceremony started.

Their band had performed last of three bands in AA competition that day, so they were awarded after both of the other bands. The announcer had started speaking, and everyone grew quiet. Tension was in the stands, and whether it was because he was so close to Rukia or whether it was his own nervousness at his section's ratings, Ichigo shivered slightly.

"Karakura High School, Colorgaurd with a rating of..."

The crowd held it's breath.

"Three."

A pained, "Ohh..." sounded from the winds and percussion as the guard started sniffling. The same kind of "Oh" that you hear when a guy gets kicked where it hurts.

"Drum Major, with a rating of..."

Utter silence.

"One."

The section of the stands that the Karakura band occupied erupted in cheers. As the announcer started talking again, the stadium resumed it's silenece.

"Drumline, with a rating of..."

Ichigo held his breath.

"Two."

And let it out, sighing. They would have to hear the recording of the judges comments to see where they went wrong. He secretly glared at the judges booth, vowing vengeance.

"Auxilary Instruments, with a rating of..."

Rukia held her breath.

"Three."

She bit her lip, furrowing her eyebrows. Ichigo looked at her strangely, trying to figure out what she was thinking to make such a face. With a start, he realized that that was her equivalent of scowling. This did not bode well. She would be hell to deal with when they got home. But the announcer, who didn't know that he was possibly in danger of a good feirce mauling by band students, continued on, completely unaware.

"Overall Band, rating of..."

People muttered curses under their breathes.

"Two."

And so the band suffered through the rest of the awards ceremony, freezing, wishing they could just take their trophies and go home. All of them, except Ichigo. He was still huddled close to Rukia, and the ever-helpful and well endowed Orihime, who had so generously provided a Chappy the Rabbit blanket for the three of them to use, while Chad, Mizuiro and Keigo all huddled behind them, trying to capture some of the warmth. But Ichigo was tired. He was tired of holding his head up as the open-class, that is, bands with over one-hundred and fifty members, recieved their awards. Discreetly, he laid his head on Rukia's shoulder, and when she looked at him with something akin to confusion, he just glared at her and muttered, "Shut up, I'm tired."

"So lean on Orihime."

He continued to glare, but soon found that he couldn't quite keep his eyes open. He fell asleep, on her shoulder, and found that even in his dreams, he still couldn't get Rukia off his mind.

And even in his dreams, he still couldn't get her.


	3. Chasing Cars

Disclaimer: See previous page.

**A/N: **Pity the souls who have to endure a bus ride with Colorguard. Also, the song at the end of this chapter is called, "Chasing Cars", by Snow Patrol.

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It was going to be a long, long bus ride home.

Of the ninety-something people in band, about thirty of them were colorguard. Unfortunately, two of the three buses that ferried the Karakura High School Marching Band to and from the school were completely filled up with band members. Well, not completely. But for various reasons, Ichigo hadn't been able to find a seat on either of those buses. So now, he and a few other band members were stuck on a two hour long bus-ride to the school, with a group of pseudo-depressed teenage girls who found it absolutely necessary to sing their hearts out, like cats howling to the moon, in the darkness of the school bus.

So he and Rukia sat in the very front of the bus, because, to his dismay, she had had one of two choices to make: Either sit with Ichigo on a bus full of colorguard, or sit next to Keigo and be groveled at throughout the night.

So, as previously stated, she sat up in the front of the bus with Ichigo, where the few unlucky band members had congregated to escape the terrible chorus in the back of the bus. She was drawing in her dotbook again, by the light of an almost full moon, concentrating on the rabbits and music notes and treble clefs and strawberries. Ichigo watched her, out of the corner of his eye, as she sketched with almost desperate need, as she still bit her lip and furrowed her brows. She was angry that the Winds had gotten a "three" rating, and her frustration showed in the way she beared down on the crayons, forcing the vibrant colors from the wax tips in quick strokes.

She was absolutely beautiful.

As the dark bus passed the streetlights, orange light shone down through the window, framing her face for a fraction of a second, then passing, as the moon shed blue-silver light from the heavens. But wait; did Ichigo just see what he thought he saw? He waited patiently for the next streetlight to pass by the darkened window, and when it did, he was surprised to find that yes, he did see what he thought he saw, it wasn't just a delusion. Rukia had tears in her eyes.

But as a Death God, she wouldn't, couldn't, allow herself to cry. Not in front of him or any mortal, or any being in general. It was just wholly unacceptable, so she continued to draw, continued to bite her lip to stop herself from making any noise in frustration, and continued to furrow her brow in confusion and anger as to why she had gotten a three. But why did she care? It was just some stupid band competition. Who cared about that? She wasn't put here to go compete with mortals about who could play some stupid instrument better. That's right! She had tears in her eyes because of the cold, which had also brought on the inaudible sniffles, not because of this looming disappointment. It's this stupid gigai, she thought. So susceptible to changes in the environments... she just didn't know how humans could stand it. But even as she convinced herself of this, she saw Ichigo staring at her with concern in his eyes, though it was hidden behind the ever-present scowl.

He felt his stomach flip when she looked at him, proud and defiant, refusing to let any tears spill out of her eyes over some stupid band competition. She still bit her lip, but that didn't stop her from putting down her crayon and doing a pretty decent impersonation of his glare.

"What do you want?"

Her voice held a note of uncertainty, and she hated it. She should sound as strong as she felt, not like some young, naive high school girl. But she figured it could have been worse; her voice could've cracked, betraying her emotions. Wait, what emotions? She didn't care. She didn't care about some stupid band thing. It wasn't important; it wasn't life threatening, like a Hollow, so whatever. It didn't matter. But when she met Ichigo's gaze, she looked away almost immediately, and felt guilty. But why? She hadn't done anything wrong! For the love of Kami, this gigai would be the death of her! Why did she feel like a criminal under Ichigo's gaze? Like his eyes were searching her soul? He had no such power, so why did it feel like he knew what she was thinking...?

And suddenly, in the darkness of the somewhat crowded school bus, Ichigo leaned over and hugged her closely. Neither of them spoke, though he felt Rukia's heart beating erratically. He didn't know she could feel his beating just as fast, so he held her for another minute or two, and finally let go. After he leaned back, he gently took hold of her chin as she tried to face opposite of him, tried to look out the window. Tried to escape.

Searching, he looked into her sapphiric eyes, through the tears. She avoided his gaze, and tried to speak, to stop the soundless interrogation.

"Ichigo..."

She looked at the seat behind them, though her eyes flicked back to see if he was still watching her, even though she knew he was. He still had her chin in his hand, so he brought his face closer to hers, so that their noses touched, and rested his forehead on hers. It was obvious what was bothering her, now, so he stared into her eyes, intending to set things straight.

"Listen, idiot. You did great. You'd better not cry over them, because they don't know what the hell they're doing or who the hell they're dealing with. You heard that they gave the drumline a two, didn't you?"

She nodded, enraptured by his gaze. He had eyes like autumn leaves.

"Well, we did way better than a two, but they gave us one anyways. Do you see me or Tatsuki crying over it?"

She shook her head.

"They don't know how hard you worked, so stop being a stupid idiot about it. Get over it, stupid."

The usual barbs he held in his conversations with Rukia were gone as he said this, softly, so that only she could hear. For a moment, they stared in each others' eyes, but eventually, Ichigo let go of Rukia, lightly tracing his finger along her jawline. He resumed his expression of scowl and glare and leaned on the back of the seat in front of him. Rukia slowly went back to drawing, though she was dazed, and tried not to think about Ichigo, even though he was still sitting inches away from her. He acted asleep, though his heart was beating too fast and he couldn't stop his leg from fidgeting. Soon enough, Rukia stopped drawing and put her crayons back into the box, then into the bag she had brought along. She then leaned on the cool window, and closed her eyes. Her breathing evened out, and all was quiet. Even the raucous colorguard weren't screeching like harpies anymore.

But Ichigo couldn't sleep. So, without a second thought, he decided to do the next best thing.

He took the electric guitar from the storage seat that was in front and to the left of him. He unzipped the case, _borrowed_ a pick, and placed two of his fingers on the seventh frets of the G and D string, and one finger on the fifth fret of the A string. He strummed a few times, and began strumming in a basic eighth note rhythm. Without stopping, he began an almost silent accompaniment to the quiet guitar, palm muted and without an amp. He sang, in a hushed whisper, to himself.

"...If I lay here... If I just _lay_ here... would you lie with me? And just forget the world...?"

Blushing, he paused and made sure no one had heard him. They hadn't, not even the bus driver. He would die if anyone were awake. Or better yet, he'd kill whoever heard.

"Forget what we're told... Before we get _too_ old... Show me a garden that's _burstin'_ into life..."

And somebody stirred in the back. So, Ichigo quickly put the guitar away, and put it back in the storage seat, and acted asleep. He hummed the rest of the song to himself as he leaned back to gaze out the roof hatch, which was slightly ajar, at the stars above. What good luck they were having, he thought, that a Hollow hadn't attacked at all today... and with those muddled thoughts, he drifted off into blessed sleep, where perhaps, even he could be happy.

Rukia opened a sleepy eye, to gaze out the window at the rapidly moving terrain. She shivered, and bundled herself closer in her coat, smiling one her rare, true smiles. Then, closed her eye again.

"And just forget the world..."

-----------------

Sappy, I know. I'm sorry. xp  
And yes, if sapphiric wasn't a part of your dictionary before, it is now.


	4. Snow, Hey Oh

They finally arrived back at the band room around two. The colorguard were surprisingly quiet, which was greatly appreciated by the band members aboard their bus. After the first thirty minutes of them screeching and cracking high notes, they were told to be silent by the bus driver, whom they promptly cursed out. After a few more minutes of their arguing, they quieted down, and nothing else had happened. An uneventful busride to the school, coupled with the ratings they had gotten, was enough to pacify most of the marching band. Ichigo had woken up with Rukia laying on his shoulder, due to some shift the bus had made en route. He felt her breathing on him, and had spied her nestled in the crook of his neck, and since he was less than half-consious, he didn't care. He shrugged his shoulder until she woke up, blinking away the remnants of a dream she had had. For a few moments, she stared at Ichigo profoundly, wondering where she was, why she was so cold, and how come she wasn't sleeping deeply in her closet. And then she remembered the three her section had gotten, and her version of the scowl returned.

Soon after the band members awoke, the colorguard director, Mister H., climbed on the bus and said that, no Mister Cogdill wasn't going to give them a lecture about what they could have done better. All he wanted was for them to put away their uniforms, clean up the band room, and go home, he said, and then Mister H jumped off the bus to avoid the stampede of colorguard. They were vicious at this time of day (or night, techinically), as any band member could have told him, though he should've known best; he w_as _a former colorguard member, of a different band. So Ichigo watched as the ferocious beast-women crowded through the aisles. He held his shako box closely, as well as his uniform bag, which jingled with the chains of his jacket and guantlets. Rukia, who was still half asleep succumbed to the desire to close her eyes and she slumped listlessly against Ichigo yet again. The colorguard weren't moving fast anyway, so he decided to let her sleep for a few minutes.

Besides, who was he to wake a Sleeping Beauty?

Eventually though, the Colorguard were all herded off of the bus, and the band members slowly followed. Ichigo woke Rukia up with a gentle shake and a, "Wake up, idiot. We're here." She glared at him before unhooking the hanger of her uniform bag from the bus window and yawning. She yawned like a frigging cat, Ichigo thought. And, to his disgust, he found that... kind of... Ack, what the hell? What the hell was he thinking? She just _yawned _and he thought she was cute? What the hell was wrong with him? For God's sake, it was _Rukia_! It must be all this exposure to these damn nerds, Ichigo thought. Marching band was starting to have an effect on his perception of reality- that was it. So he shook his head, and upon looking at Rukia again, he glared at her.

And she glared right back.

Ichigo shivered. Rukia could be scary as hell, he realized from her glare. It was best he didn't start bickering with her over something small now. There was a distinct possibility she would maul the living hell out of him. So he lugged his uniform bag up the cement ramp, through the back door to the bandroom, and into the uniform hanger room in complete silence. For once, he wasn't the feircest looking person among the band students; Rukia was. Getting a bad rating, being awakened from deep sleep, and the intense cold of the small hours of the morning was _not _having the best effect on her.

If looks could kill, half of the band (and all of the Colorguard) would be dead.

So Ichigo made a point of avoiding her as much as possible. He hid in one of the darker corners of the locker rooms and waited for the rest of the band to clean the band hall. Honestly, he thought, who would look there? He could just doze off until he heard someone shout that Tony was dismissing them. Then he would get up, stand out there, get called to attention and shout, "Ea-gles!" and go home. Simple as that. Except that about halfway through the planning of this scheme, one of the few people he really didn't want to see staggered into the dim locker room. She slid into the corner beside Ichigo, making him scoot over, and promptly dropped dead, metaphorically speaking. Ichigo tried to glare, but seeing Rukia sleeping peacefully in the fetal position beside him took a good portion of the venom in his gaze and nullified it. But he made sure to peek around the corner of the locker that shielded him from sight. He would _not _be caught staring like some love struck teenager at the death god.

That would be like tripping during a preformance; if the band didn't know about immediately after, they would be alerted within fifteen minutes. He would never live it down.

There was no one else in the locker room, which was enough to surprise Ichigo. A moment alone in the locker room was something to be cherished, because most of the time, there were band kids stripping to the skivvies, for whatever reason. Deeply disturbing, even to the exceptional human- not to mention the smell. If not for the relative warmth the room provided, and it's missing or burned out lights, it wouldn't be the choice location for a quick nap. But it thankfully provided these things, so Ichigo had long since decided it was a worthy trade. This reprieve was short lived, though, because all too soon the Mellophone section leader stuck her head into the locker room and yelled, "We're being dismissed!" Rukia woke with a start, looking around like a lost child, until she stood up and staggered out of the dim room. Ichigo followed as soon as he could, making sure Keigo and Mizuiro were nowhere nearby. Those two idiots could jump to the strangest conclusions.

Out in the band hall, there was a large huddle of people surrounding Tony, who stood on a chair to see over their heads. A few bodies of the deeper sleepers of the band littered the carpeted floor, but nobody had the heart to wake them. They were mostly Colorguard. Tony clapped for four counts, and on the fifth, sixth, and seventh counts shouted, "Band-Ten-Hut!". The band shouted, "Hut!", but the guard and two of the drumline were still talking, until they found the rest of the band glaring at them. Tony sighed and told the band they would have to do it again. This was met by mutters and grumbles, but when Tony called them to attention again, no one talked. He searched every face, from Rukia's death glare to Ichigo's indifference, and counted to three. On the third count, everybody shouted, "Ea-gles!" and Tony answered them with, "Okay, dismissed."

As the group of students headed for the door, Ichigo glanced out the windows that were mounted high above the ground, touching the ceiling. Through them, he saw the terrifyingly wide grin of an ivory mask. Only one thought went through Ichigo's mind and off the tip of his tongue: "Oh shit." Rukia's cell phone went off just as the Hollow crashed through the side of the building, shattering glass and sending peices of brick flying. The remaining band members in the building didn't know what was happening, so they did the most rational thing they could; they ran like hell. All of them except Rukia's section leader and Ichigo's section leader. They were trying to break through the mass of people headed for the doors. From what they could see, there was some kind of distortion around the gaping hole in the side of the building, which they presumed to be some sort of poisenous gas. The faint outline of the Hollow entered the building and both section leaders paused momentarily, torn between the desire to save the ones in their sections and the need to keep themselves out of harm's way.

Rukia had her gloves on before Ichigo heard the ringing of her cell phone cut off. She chinned him brutaly, and his empty body fell to the floor as he drew his zanpakuto. He faced the Hollow squarely, unaware of the people who had remained in the building. Rukia dragged Ichigo's body into the locker room, where two band kids were hiding, telling them to watch over his body. She returned to the band hall to find Ichigo still hadn't attacked. The Hollow was big enough to have filled the room, and had the shape of a dog-thing. It's body was covered in fur the color of old blood, and it's wings were dragon-esque, torn and rotting. The stench it emitted was probably what had petrified all but her, because, even though the people still in the room didn't have that much riatsu, what they had was enough. Ichigo looked as though he was fighting against it, but the grinning beast was advancing, leaving foot prints the size of a Sousaphone, and the shinigami hadn't made any progress. As blood slowly filtered out of Ichigo's nose, he realized that was all he needed; there was the solution to this debilitating smell. In desperation, he forced his hand to move and tear off small bits of his clothing, which he promptly stuck in his nose. And the smell was gone.

Without further hesitation, Ichigo swung his sword, just as the creature opened its mouth to devour him. With a satisfying scream, its bottom jaw disintegrated, and it jumped back, with its tongue hanging out. It tried to say something, but all it managed to do was flop around its tongue and gurgle on black blood. Ichigo grinned, and attacked, heading for the mask. The Hollow was faster than he first thought, though, because it sidestepped before Ichigo had realized it, and tour his shoulder with its remaining upper jaw. With his left arm now out of commision, Ichigo roared like a madman and, while the creature still dug its fangs into his shoulder, stabbed it in the face. With a final, bone-chilling howl, it disappeared. Ichigo grimaced and looked around, doing a damage assessment.

The building had a gigantic hole in the western-most wall, chairs and stands were crushed, there was shards of glass everywhere, but there wasn't a single instrument among the casualties. That made Ichigo smile. There were no human casualties either, because there weren't any humans in the room, from what he could see.

He was unaware of his and Rukia's section leaders, who had taken refuge in the Large Ensemble Room.  
--------------

Rukia called him over and pointed to his body, in the locker room, being poked and prodded by the two band kids whom Rukia had assigned to guard it. Returning to his body was no difficult task, and he growled as the baritone players poked him with their toes. With mumbled apologies, both band members left, and Rukia walked in, arms crossed. Ichigo glared at her, but found that the pain in his shoulder- which before had only been a kind of throbbing pressure- was now excruciating. This did nothing to improve his temper.

"What the hell do you want?"

The shinigami knelt down, and poked his (un)injured shoulder. When he cringed, she grinned- which didn't fail to make him shiver- and told him he'd be fine. They could do damage control tomorrow, erasing the memory of anybody who had seen what went on. Ichigo grumbled something incoherent, so Rukia sighed and told him she'd meet him at home.

"You did well, Ichigo."

Leaning over him, she kissed him on the forehead, stood up, and walked out the band room. Ichigo was left in shock. His daze was shattered though, when Pickle ran into the locker room, looking for him. She said she had seen him _faint _when the explosion occurred, so she was worried. They needed every quad drummer they had, and he couldn't just go dying on them. Who would fill his drill spot?

Ichigo glared at Pickle, but he knew she had a point. He was the best damn quad player they had, in his opinion. But right now he felt like if he even looked at his sticks, his arms would fall off. After performing, then fighting a Hollow and nearly having his arm chomped off by the over grown mutt, Ichigo felt a bit like... What was the right word? Hell? Yes, that seemed perfectly suited to the condition he was in. He needed to get home and go to sleep. He decided all of this in a matter of seconds as he glared up at his section leader, and he quietly asked for a ride home. She grudgingly obliged, mainly because she didn't have a choice- if someone in their section doesn't have a ride, the section leader is responsible for transportation. So Ichigo rode quietly as the drumline's personal van taxied all the percussionists to their homes, until he was finally dropped off at his own house.

Upon walking in, he ducked a vicious kick from his father with fluidity that belied his fatigue. He vaguely heard his father yell something, right in his ear, but he was already halfway to dreamland. Climbing up the stairs to his room, he saw Kon laying across the step as if he were dead, though he must have been asleep or trying to get lost to avoid Yuzu. Whatever the case, Ichigo wouldn't disturb him. He walked into his room and announced his presence to Rukia, though it was pointless, because she was hardly awake. He lay face down on his bed without bothering to change his clothes. Rukia may or may not have bid him goodnight; he didn't remember, and to him, it didn't matter. Just knowing that she was near him was enough for Ichigo.


	5. Billy

Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and alerts, guys. My fans are the best. Also, the song the drumline later plays is actually a pep band song. For the curious.

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So here Ichigo was.

Band practice.

Sort of like Hell, but with drums.

It was now Thursday afternoon, and Mister Cogdill had finally been able to overcome his anger at the band's performance. He even stated that the drumline had done pretty darn good, and no, the judges didn't know what they were doing. But regardless, they had gotten a two, so they had to listen to the judge's tape recording on the asphalt field before beginning practice, to see what needed work. The rest of the band was inside the building, being lectured by Mister Cogdill. As they waited, one of the other quad players, a girl whom Ichigo thought was a guy, was playing some pep band music. A song called "Billy", with no obvious reason as to the naming. Eventually, Pickle walked from the band room and set her snare underneath the tower. She held a tape cassette player, a concert stick and a Gock block. After a muttered comment or two from Ichigo, the rest of the drumline gathered around their section leader to hear the tape and get on with the practice.

It was an old man, from the sound of his voice. Senility must have played a large part in their rating.

"Well, this is a good start, drumline... the second snare from the back is out of time- no, nevermind. They fixed it."

A few moments of silence as the judge listened to the drumline and the drumline prayed for the snare player who'd been called out.

"Nice tricks, but the sticking is slightly out of time... I'd suggest taking more time on visuals. Wait. The bass is causing phasing... fast fix. Good work. Odd motions, snare and quads... way to keep in time. Second quad from the front side line, way to reach-"

Ichigo grinned.

"-and you might want to tell that snare not to go so far back. It's interfering with how you hit the cymbals. Watch it, Bass. Make sure you count, because you almost hit that snare. And... Good job. Way to scatter, drumline; good work avoiding the winds- wait. One of the quads- I'm not sure which of you- almost hit that flute player. Watch where you're going; the Mellophone section will be there when you get back. I promise."

Ichigo coughed and glared at anyone willing to make eye contact.

"...Way to stay in step, drumline- I'm wondering, is the snare that's yelling your section leader? If so, congratulate them. You're doing a good job- third quad from the left, you just did a flam backwards. Watch that. Hmmm... There are thirteen of you in the drumline, but you outplay all the rest of the band. Try working on your balance; the rest of the band is playing metso forte, and you are playing fortissimo. Try playing a little more quiet."

Pickle paused the tape player and the drumline looked around. One of the snare players, the one with the mohawk, asked, "What's... kwiy... yet?"

The boy stared.

Ichigo stared.

Pickle stared, and answered.

"...Uhm... Very forte."

They un-paused the tape and listened as the judge praised and critiqued them. The last fifteen seconds on the tape was of the drumline, playing taps to march the band off the field. The closing comments consisted of the biggest problems and best praise. "Remember, make sure you count basses, and stay in step. There were only a few minor errors in the percussion-" Pickle snapped the concert stick she held "-today, but overall, a very good show. Thank you, Karakura High School."

Ichigo could practically see the aura of danger around his section leader. The judge had called them _percussion_. A grave mistake; he must be a flute player, Ichigo thought. Percussion was pit, not drumline. So, as Pickle threw the broken stick behind her, the rest of the drumline set their drums down carefully and awaited the verdict. If Pickle thought that the judge was an absolute douche, then the punishment for getting a Two wouldn't be as severe. If she thought he was right, however, there would be laps, push-ups, suicides, and the worst of the worst: prolonged warm-up sessions. There was nothing more irritating to Ichigo than warming up at half the speed a warm-up exercise would normally be played, but that's just what Pickle did when they had a bad performance. So he prayed that the judge had been in the wrong. He watched as she deliberated, massaging her temples and tapping her stick absentmindedly.

After a few moments, she brought her eyes back up, glaring.

"Okay. So that judge was an idiot."

A wave of relief swept through the drumline.

"Probably some flute player. But he did have a point; we need to work on some stuff. But first..." she grinned. "Let's go run some laps. In time."

A pained expression crossed Ichigo's face. But what else could he do? Disobeying Pickle would be like wrapping himself in tape and laying on a train track. Suicide. So, resigned to his fate, he stuck his sticks in his back pocket, and laced up his shoes, ready for running. But just as Pickle was getting the drumline into block formation for a few laps around the school, his savior arrived. Rukia ran out from behind the band building, where most of the other band students were heading to the clearing in the forest that served as their practice field. The serious expression on her face made Ichigo want to get up and dance. A Hollow! He quietly snuck off to meet Rukia as Pickle led the drumline off, unaware of Ichigo's absence.

She arrived near him, panting for a moment. When she raised her eyes, they were brimming with excitement. It was indeed a Hollow. This was his chance; leaving his body at the top of the tower that overlooked the asphalt field, Ichigo followed Rukia in the general direction of the Hollow, and got out of practice for the first forty minutes.

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A lyre is a type of music holder, used mostly for pep bands so that they don't have to memorize their music. They- the lyres that is, not the band- usually have square ends that are hooked into the clasp on a miniature music folder. At this point in time, it felt like someone had sharpened these ends to fine razor points, aimed carefully, and stabbed Ichigo's arms and hands with animal-like ferocity. As soon as Pickle had figured out why there were no smartass comments coming from Ichigo, she halted the group of running drummers and told them to wait. When Ichigo got back, they'd be doing another three laps and one-hundred and forty push-ups. This elicited groans and threats from the drumline, though they weren't directed at Pickle. And when Ichigo did try to sneak back in unnoticed, Pickle made him drop right there and give her two hundred.

And he had laughed.

The one kid, the one with the silver mohawk, shook his head with pity. Ichigo hadn't learned during band camp, or practice; Pickle made no jokes when it came to marching band. So when Ichigo was on the ground, bruises flowering on his cheeks and shins, the kid with the mohawk just went back to playing his snare. Pickle sat down squarely on Ichigo's back and told him to get to the push-ups. And no girl push-ups either. While she was seated on his back, she told the drumline to put on their drums and do a run through of the show, marking time in place. And if anyone got out of time, they'd be down here doing push-ups too. And after about four run throughs and one hundred and eighty something push-ups, Ichigo collapsed with Pickle still on his back. His shoulder still hurt from where that dog-Hollow had torn it open, not to mention a few new battle scars from the latest Hollow attack. With an irritated glare, Pickle finally said they were through, and it was time to go back to the band room to be dismissed. She would be checking drums later, and if they weren't properly put away, there would be laps. Oh yes, there would be laps.

That was more than enough to scare the drumline.

Tatsuki scoffed as she passed Ichigo's body on the ground, and poked him with her sticks. When he growled at her, she ws satisfied that he wasn't dead, and she went to hurry up and put her drum away. She wanted to hang out with Orihime before being dismissed. After all the rest of the drumline had put away their things, Ichigo finally put away his quads and was dismissed. He just hoped he wouldn't be so sore tomorrow; because there were no Friday night football games, the local high schools had mini-marching band competitions to show off whatever new additions to their shows they had. Maybe Pickle would pity him tomorrow.

And maybe tomorrow he would wake up, and would find that he was in the Gulf of Mexico, being rescued by mutant green ninja monkeys; or maybe not.

------------------------------------------------

School had come and gone, and so had practice, surprisingly. Pickle hadn't tormented Ichigo too much. She did make sure to remind him of the pushups he owed her when the other high schools came to their school. Though they were fierce rivals on the field, the few marching bands in the district were pretty close; there was the rest of Japan to compete with. So every Friday night, all the bands hung out, ate food from the concession stands for free, and watched each other perform their halftime shows. They would still be in uniform, but after their performance, they'd be allowed to change into their street clothes and keep their instruments with them. After each band had performed, there would be a pep band competition. Then, at the very end of the night, there would be the weekly Drum Battle, where each drumline lined up on the field and marched, playing the solos from their halftime shows or solos they composed themselves.

As Ichigo sat down with a hotdog and a can of soda, he searched for Rukia. When he found her, he sighed; she had a gigantic double scoop chocolate ice cream in her hands, and she was trying to eat it before it melted.

"Oi, Rukia!"

She looked up and around, searching for who had called her name. She lost interest though, as some of the ice cream melted and dripped onto her fingers. It was a hopeless endeavor, because the ice cream was already half liquid, draining into the waffle cone Rukia had. Once again, Ichigo sighed as she tried to lick the chocolate ice cream off her hand. He couldn't glare at her- what had she done wrong? He would look like such a dork if he was just glaring at her with no real reason. So instead he scowled and looked in front of him and ate his food. The drum battle would be coming up soon; that's what he had to focus on. They were playing an original solo this week, something composed by a quads player Pickle knew. "The best quads player ever. Period.", she had said. And who was Ichigo to argue? Did he _want_ to die? Of course not. So he closed his mouth and learned his part.

As he thought this, Pickle sauntered over with not one, not two, not even seven pickles. She held the pickle jar under her arm like it contained gold and silver and death-glared anyone who came within reaching distance. She sat down next to Ichigo without a word and opened her pickle jar with delight; apparently, she could live off this stuff. Soon after, her mohawked friend joined her and sat down, taking care to keep both hands within Pickle's eyesight, so she wouldn't think he was trying to take her pickles. Ichigo watched them both with a "Why the Hell are you near me?" look, though neither noticed. They were engaged in some weird conversation that Ichigo couldn't understand. Something about a guy with weird pants and krazy girls back in America. Ichigo tuned out around that part, and watched the last band perform.

It was soon over, and Ichigo was suiting back up and warming up on his quads before he realized it.

Fifteen minutes later, he was marching onto the field, with a taps being played by all the snares and quads from all the bands. When everyone had marched onto the field, the crowd grew quiet. Only one drumline played at a time, so there was only one drum major on the podium at a time. The requirements were simple, though; the judges would give the time signature beforehand so the band could prepare something for every Friday night, and the best drumline would win that week. So, Tony climbed onto the podium ("Drum Major Tony Kelly, is your Drumline ready?") and called them to attention. Two measure of prep and the quads played, while everyone else was quiet. One eighth note, on the second-highest pitched drum, and a triplet on the accent drum. Then they played that again, this time adding an eighth note on the first drum that had been hit. They played all that, then added a triplet on the highest pitched drum (not the accent drum). Then they played all of it, and added four eighth notes on the lowest pitched drum; after that, the quads hit the second lowest and lowest pitched drums together, three quarter notes.

The rest of the drumline joined in on the three quarter notes. Then the basses and snares played on the first, the "and" after the second beat and third beats of every measure, always ending with the three quarter notes. This song was called "Billy".

The audience promptly got up and danced, and Pickle shouted orders over the drums, but none of it mattered to Ichigo. He saw from his place on the fifty-yard line that Rukia was sitting in the front row of the bleachers, still eating her ice cream, but she was enraptured by their show. Once again, Ichigo felt his throat go dry, and he chewed on his shako strap in an attempt to get some moisture in his mouth. The rest of the show was uneventful, with them ending "Billy" and going straight into the '05 cadence for the drumline's old school district, back in America. They marched off the field, and the drumline that was to perform next stepped forward.

Upon stepping off the field, Tony spotted Mister Cogdill waving at them over the crowd of people watching the drum battle. When the drumline had gathered around him, he told them they'd had a great show, keep up the good work and go get back in the stands. So the drumline went back to the band room, undressed (with Pickle and Tatsuki in the locker room and the guys just taking their clothes off in the open, which may have been the reason why they were required to wear boxers underneath their uniforms) and made their way back to the stands. Upon arriving, they found that their biggest rival-drumline was on the field playing. Unfortunately for them, the judges told them to stop before their show was through.

"Yes, we love that solo too, quads. 'Drumline' was a great movie."

Ka-pwn't.

After their drumline had marched off the field, the ratings ceremony began, and soon it was over. Karakura had gotten a "two" for colorguard and a "one" for winds, drum major and percussion. When the ceremony was done, the other bands loaded up on their buses and left, and Karakura's band drew straws to see who would have to clean the stands. Saxophones drew short, so Ichigo made sure to be the one to hand Ishida a broom on his way out the band room. Later, when all the instruments were put away and the stands were clean, Mister Cogdill told the brass and percussion to see him after dismissal, and the band was dismissed. They all gathered around the band director, who was standing solemnly in a chair, even though he was already taller than the tallest student.

"I have some important news!"

The section leaders looked bored. They already knew.

"Your section leaders and I are going back to America for a little while." He grinned at the dumbfounded response he received. "They will be taking their seconds also, so if you think you're good enough, try out. That's all." He was grinning like he'd won the lottery. Why was he so happy? Ichigo was pissed. Who would command their section? He voiced these thoughts to Pickle, who glared into the distance and answered with nonchalance.

"Why's he so happy? 'Cause we're going home, maybe? I'm happy too."

"Why are you going home? What's gonna happen to _this_ band?"

Pickle glared at him. "Did he say we're _all_ going home? No. Just the section leaders, idiot. Pay attention, or I'll give you laps."

Ichigo's fists clenched, and he paused, trying to regain composure. He was too familiar with the track. He didn't want to get re-acquainted. "But that doesn't answer why you're going." Pickle rolled her eyes and stood, crossing her arms and flicking her sticks, which were in either hand.

"Why _we_ are going, you mean. You, me, and him-" she pointed at Mohawk Man. "-are going to America to audition for the Boston Crusaders."

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If you don't know who the Crusaders are, go to my profile, and watch the Cavaliers. They're a similar band.

I dunno what to tell you guys. I'm dried up for inspiration right now, not to mention the lack of reviews is quite the downer, eh? I'll get back to updatin' in a little while. :P


	6. Stacy's Mom

Heh... Sorry for not updating. I've been busy applying for Section Leader and whatnot. Forgive meh. x)

Disclaimer: See page one.

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It's not that the section leaders were stuck up or anything.

It's not as if they were difficult to look at, or smelly, or whatever.

But after spending twenty-five HOURS in a plane and one hour in Mister Cogdill's not-so-small-but-too-small-for-this-purpose car, Ichigo was ready to tear his eyes out with a nice, rusty spork. When he had woken up this-(tomorrow?)- morning, the clock read 5:30. His plane left at seven. He wanted to cry.

Why the hell did they have to leave so early?!

When he arrived at the airport (later than Rukia, of course, not _with_ her) he glared at everybody, _especially _Mister C. It was his damn fault the damn plane was so damn early. Damn, damn, damn.

Ichigo wasn't a very happy camper.

When Rukia arrived, all bubbly and happy and sparkly-shimmery as usual, Ichigo wanted to kill something. He almost wished Kiego was here, so he wouldn't feel at all guilty about beating something that lacked the capacity to defend itself. But Kiego played clarinet, and there was no woodwind section in a drumcorp, so he and Mizuiro, and Ishida all stayed back. Ichigo told Ishida the day before he left to defend Karakura while he was away. Ishida had scoffed and said he would do better now that Ichigo was finally going- much to Ichigo's annoyance. If Ishida didn't have such a cool section leader, Ichigo would have killed him by now. But his section leader was cool, so Ichigo couldn't go around killing kids in her section. He'd let that damn Quincy live for a little while longer.

But thinking of Ishida did nothing to help Ichigo's temper. And when Mister Cogdill- excited, too awake, as usual- took the section leaders and seconds through the airport, Ichigo was told he couldn't bring his metalcore drum sticks. So he packed them in his bag with a glare at the smiling clerk at the desk. Then he boarded the plane, and was chagrined to find his seat right next to Rukia's. What was worse, she had the window seat.

If this kept up, somebody was going to die.

Then Ichigo fell asleep, and awoke ten hours later at the Honolulu airport, in Hawaii. The Americans in the group were ecstatic at being on the island. Ichigo just wanted more sleep.

After the plane refueled, they were off again, and this time Ichigo stole the window seat. He watched the island disappear in the endless blue until his eyes drifted shut of their own accord. He awoke when the plane jolted to a stop in California, and when the rest of the plane's occupants had exited, _then_ Mister Cogdill let them go. They were allowed to change clothes (if they wanted) in the airport, get breakfast, and pick up souvenirs before their next plane left for Utah, then the East Coast. Ichigo found himself with Pickle, Mohawk Man, the Mellophone section leader, and Rukia.

Why God, why?

Because it was ridiculously bright, the first thing Ichigo did when he got to the plaza in the middle of the airport was buy sunglasses. Then a beanie hat, then breakfast. He really woke up when the ice cold milk he was drinking with his waffles hit the back of his throat, at which point he choked and gagged. He realized he was in the company of others when somebody pounded him on the back. He looked around the table for the first time, seeing everybody he was with, and scowled. When everyone saw this, they were sure he was fine, and went back to chatting and eating.

Later when they boarded the plane, Ichigo was feeling slightly better, if somewhat sick from jetlag. The band kids had almost-first class seats, and they were all in the same section of the plane, so they all talked and laughed and had a good ol' time while Ichigo observed. While he just scowled away and glared, he noticed several things that should have been obvious to him. Like the way the trombone/baritone section leader looked at the Mellophone section leader. And the way the trumpet section leader looked at the only girl in the pit crew. Band relationships. And for some odd reason, Ichigo wanted to laugh at that. Most band relationships were doomed to phailure, weren't they?

When he found himself fervently wishing against, he twitched.

The in-flight movie came on soon after that, and all the section leaders and seconds went quiet, with the help earphones. At some point during the movie, the main character shouted something akin to, "But love conquers all!" and everybody in the band sniggered. This brought on a round of discussion, and- too Ichigo's horror, I must add- a band-wide reflection of the halftime show from two season's past.

"You remember our 'Video game Live' show?"

"Hah! That was so _weird_! And the monologue-"

"YES! THE MONOLOGUE AT THE BEGINNING!"

"How did it go again...?"

Silence for a few seconds. Ichigo thought they might actually let the discussion die. No such luck.

"...In a world where-"

"No, that's not it. It was, "In the year 2095...' "

All eyes got wide.

"Yeah! That's it!"

"In the year 2095-"

"Princess Ariana-"

"Fell in love with Prince Nicholas! But behind every happy ending there lies an untold story..."

The older members chorused, "This. Is their story."

"In an attempt to master the world, the Techtronics have _kidnapped_ Princess Ariana and hidden her in one of their..."

"Intense video games...? No, that wasn't it..."

"Complex! It was complex! '...Complex video games. Now, Prince Nicholas must defeat the four levels of the video game and rescue Princess Ariana, or she will be lost to him. Forever."

The older members chorused, again. "Let the game begin!" Then they all burst into laughter, some making the noise that must have been played at the beginning of the show, like an old school sega booting up. Or a gameboy. The baritone section leader mock-conducted in seven-eight time, and they did an entire run through of the show using just their voices. It may have been the most strange yet amusing thing Ichigo had ever seen. One of the colorguard shouted at the end, "All your shako are belong to us!" and the band had another round of laughter. The people in the back of the plane glared and muttered, "Nerds...", but the band kids didn't seem to notice.

Or if they did notice, they were proud anyways.

For the rest of the flight, Ichigo couldn't bring himself to glare at anybody, but he still scowled. He even smiled, once. He told himself he couldn't remember why, but he had a suspicion that it was something Rukia had done. Totally unfounded, though. Eventually he fell asleep again, and by the time the plane touched down at Hartsfield International, Ichigo felt almost well rested. After they exited the plane, and went through security, and packed the instruments in the trailer attached to Mister Cogdill's truck, they stood in the parking garage, debating who would ride in the car and who would ride in the trailer. The truck, which had tiny interior space but a really good heater, could only fit Mister C in the driver's seat, two people in the front seat, and four in the back. Illegally.

The trailer had no heat, barely any light, and was packed with instruments. But it was spacious. So the section leaders debated who would get what, and the boy section leaders decided NOW of ALL TIMES was the time to be chivalrous, so the guys rode in the trailer and the girls rode in the car. Ichigo felt sick again. After an hour of riding in the dark, bumpy trailer, Mister Cogdill finally announced that they had arrived, and when all the guys looked through the cracks in the corners between the roof and the door, they saw the high school band building towering in front of them. Immediately the older members started yelling and shouting, and when they were let out, they ran around like idiots. Ichigo just scowled and took his bag from the back of Mister Cogdill's truck.

Which brings us back to Ichigo, after twenty-five HOURS of spending time with section leaders and seconds. They now inhabited the band building, with the girls sleeping in the practice rooms and the boys sleeping in the band hall out in the open. The only thing that separated them from any wandering thief or killer was a lobby and a pair of glass doors.

Lovely.

Ichigo closed his eyes and tried to count sheep. He could hear the girls in the practice room- which said something, because those things were damn near sound proof- and saw the light of a cell phone or laptop. It had to be at least three in the morning now, he thought suddenly. Damn jetlag.

The ground was hard. The orange light from the streetlights outside fell through the windows that reached the roof of the building. Ichigo rolled over, and hugged his pillow. They were going to practice insanely hard for the next week. Then go to Florida. For the Crusaders. If he made it... if _Rukia _made it...

And he fell asleep.

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Sorry for the abrupt ending. Gah. I think I'm gonna puke. But don't mind me. Review. ;)

Edit: Okay, so I didn't puke. Lucky me. :D And the monologue mentioned earlier was actually used in my marching band's show last year. x3  
Don't diss the Video Game Live, man. x3


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